Saturday, November 29, 2014

The King's Rock

Our  nethermost region.

Kay Hassan

 Stately, with all his passions  under a mighty  rock,
Likewise,oft in all his wars had shed his blood
It was the top miracle of his seven labors
That has never been sung with:
 Daf, drum, flute and dulcimer

Nevertheless, he was a man of  his trade
Had never played with  the shadows of  Word
 Rebounded   or bragged like the heights lord 
But , like the  sibling-of the mighty rock  
Stuck bravely to the heart of his faith
However,the  emperors  guards has already-
Reached him- in his blood soaked sanctum
 Riding- with long rifles and swords
"Ready ?" They shouted nearby. And
Cruelly was dragged  midst tears 

Oh that profound lamenting crack that shredded 
A thousand hearts upon the oak cover- giant rocks
 of the savage enchanted  souls
floating  with perpetual uproar                                                                                                                 Around  the deep, sacred  red valleys-  
Departing , and meandering on his way to exile.  

Years,  however, messed up day by night 
His shelter, lionized, like the dome of the rock
 Though, was  exposed to dust and rain 
The rock acquired his name in the waste,
 Like a giant brain of West    
Times, however, turmoil-ed  years after years
To awake him in the place, for another round.

'Alas,' we screamed, after a ninety years 
When for  the taste  of Mongols'  Paper* ,
The prides of the heights' lords scattered 
Upon the dwindling of -king's rock's-chemistry  
Sat the chieftains on their eggs,*
 Loosely, dangling  their legs
From the thousand  sides of the rock,
 Smoking-in a chattering mood.
"Hey,”  unto the their chattering folks
say the chieftains of many
“May I ask those who wrote History .
 How many chieftains and men of glory
 had from  both side of this gray rock
Like us engraved  their acts  of bravery?.”

Brothers, none of us is a stranger in the valley.
History  is tongueless, certainly, am,not;
To all who set eyes on the treasures, and land ,
The sermons  are done -we were done. 
The last chieftain has died in January 
Cursed , in his frosted  bed. And
Frozen  like the eyes of shark
For having failed forever to  catch a single word
From the Vicar's sermon on the king's coffin.
"Beware of the dogs' bark.
Beware of your brothers'  bark."
*Paper: Cash; Mongols introduced the world to the Chinese Note.
* Testicle.


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